Summary

Suga's life consists of doing odd jobs for Kiyoko (usually herding lost ghosts into the afterlife) and being a cat dad. He's fine with this. So, of course, it can't last. It all starts with a fake luck spirit haunting an unsuspecting kid—no, it starts with a stray witch trying to summon an uncontracted demon—maybe it starts with the missing tengu eggs and the selkie thief—no, Suga knows it probably started three years ago and is just now falling down around his ears.

Summary

Everybody at Beacon Hills High had a story about Stiles Stilinski. They were whispered in school hallways, traded like precious contraband in the stacks of the library, shared beneath the shadowy underside of the bleachers. Of course, no one dared to mention them when he was nearby, when he could overhear the tales they told about him. Who knew what might happen?

Summary

I'm open for requests, but I'm not going to write them if I can't make it work in the AU I created. Requests won't be written in chonologic order, but by what I can come up with ideas for. I might not write a ship if I can't figure out a way to fit them in.

Exceptions:- Doyoung and Jaehyun, they're in a monogamous relationship- Chenle and Jisung, they're minors and I won't add them to this highly sexualised AU for that reason

Summary

Min Yoongi is an art director with zero tolerance for bullshit, looking for ultimate perfection in everything he creates.Kim Taehyung is the co-owner of a vintage fashion boutique who talks to clothes and learns magic from Tumblr.

It’s a match made in the depths of hell.

[“Taehyung-ah,” Seokjin says, wily and soft, “You’re not scared of meeting Yoongi, are you?”Taehyung knows this is bait. Seokjin knows this is bait. Even Yeontan, running circles around Taehyung now, knows this is bait.His angry brows are very expressive, and right now they’re saying 'don’t take the bait, don’t be a stupid fish.'Taehyung's a stupid fish.]

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Summary

The next time Lucas wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, light filling up the room and making him feel even warmer than he has before. He feels like he’s heating up, an unending fever that runs below his skin and burns him from the inside.

He opens his eyes. The other side of the bed is empty and cold, and Lucas blindly reaches for it, almost like he’s in a haze.

The door opens, and Lucas is hit with the sweetest scent he’s ever smelled. He wants— he wants more of it, wants to bury himself in that scent, wants to lose himself in it. “Come here,” he croaks, and his throat is dry and aching. “Please.”